Notorious (Rebels of the Ton #1) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,102
“If you do that, I’ll make a fool of myself before I even enter you.” He smiled at whatever he saw on her face and shrugged, the red silk sliding from the sculpted, taut curves of his shoulders, his biceps bulging as he plucked the robe off and tossed it across the room. His hand went to his erection—to his cock; Drusilla throbbed just thinking the word—and he stroked.
His eyes glittered beneath heavy lids. “You like it when I do this?” He demonstrated by stroking himself from root to tip, the gesture sending saliva flooding her mouth, making it impossible to talk. He jerked his chin at her bent but tightly clenched knees. “Open them.” His hand had stilled and the message was clear: closed legs, no stroking.
She parted her knees a little and he gave a half-hearted stroke.
Drusilla took a deep breath and slowly spread wider.
His chest began to move faster, as did his tightly clenched fist. Power mingled with mortification—and an addictive, impossible-to-resist urge to watch him surrender to passion. She kept opening until she lay before him, as spread open as a butterfly, her knees almost touching the bed. His hand had stopped, frozen, his lips parted, his expression taut and wanting as his eyes flickered up to hers and then quickly back down.
“My God.” He shook his head, as if in disbelief. “You are so beautiful.” He released himself and dropped to his hands between her thighs. “I need just one more taste.” His mouth covered her exposed sex, and this time instead of taking her aching peak into his mouth, he thrust his tongue inside her. She cried out and pushed toward him, her hands in his hair, pulling him tight against her body as he used his tongue, fingers, and even teeth to drive her yet again into delicious madness.
His hands on her thighs held her open, and when her crisis came, all she could do was thrust her hips into his face, her back arching and straining until she thought it would snap.
She was lost in a blur when she felt the hot, slick head of him at her opening. He entered her in one smooth thrust and then lowered himself over her, their eyes mere inches apart, his mouth open as he breathed in sharp puffs, his hips still, his body buried deeply inside hers.
“I can feel your climax—the last of it.” His nostrils flared with pride, his hips pressing her down on the bed. “Now I’m going to fuck you.”
Her body clenched tight at the sound of the wicked word—which she had only ever heard once, when she’d inadvertently overheard a stable hand and maid at her father’s house.
“Ah, God, that was exquisite—I want you to do that again. Tighten around me—squeeze me.”
She wanted it, too. But... “I—I don’t know how.”
He leaned low and whispered against her temple. “I’m going to fuck you, Drusilla.”
This time they both groaned when she tightened around him.
Gabriel laughed. “That is your secret weapon.” His expression turned from amused to hard and severe in an instant. “Now let me show you mine.”
Chapter 20
It was still dark when Gabriel woke up. His arms were full of his wife’s lush body and her head rested on his biceps, their chests against each other, his body still inside hers and beginning to harden again.
“Gabriel?”
He pulled back a little, but not enough so that he left her. Streetlamps or moonlight filtered through the gap in the drapes and cut a stark line across her features. He carefully pushed a lock of hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “There, that is better. Now I can see you.”
Her face took on an expression he’d once thought of as haughty, but now realized was merely shyness. His cock, already stirring, hardened the rest of the way. Her eyes widened.
Gabriel pulsed his hips. “You keep me aroused, Drusilla.” She tightened her inner muscles and he sucked in a breath. “You are a very fast learner.” He leaned down to nuzzle and bite her exposed throat. “Do you want me? Tell me. I want to hear you say the words; I want to hear you say my name.”
“Please, Gabriel,” she said without hesitation. “I like it.” She held his gaze captive. “I love it.”
They made slow, languorous love on their sides, staring into each other’s eyes and making the joining last and last, as if they both knew what had to come afterward.